Sunday, December 25, 2016

Judy at a reading in Goldsboro in 2015,taken by Mary Susan Heath***Full Bloom 22 December 25, Christmas Day, 2016Full bloom is sometimes heavy.You can't go back. You've becomethe person you wanted to be, butnot everyone likes it. You haveauthority now as well as confidence,and you're not hiding your lightunder a bushel, but there are rebels,critics, and scoffers. Even friendscan be jealous.--- Full Bloom 4*** Over the door in Dante's Hell is written"Abandon Hope, all ye who enter here."Hope carries us forward when we feelblind. It's obvious in plants. What givesus hope? That second sight sees thehidden yearnings, past the fear thatwon't deter the seed. All we have to dois let it rise, enjoy its blooming, dineon its secret fruit.---- Full Bloom 5***I might fail, but given who I am,it's unlikely. I accomplish miraclesby moving one step at a time, onetask at a time,one day at a time,and by trusting that fabric of connection I feel to all the peoplearound me and all the wisdomstored in my depths.---- Full Bloom 8My life will be what I asked for.I may suffer, and I will lose strength,wits, and power, but the Spirit of Love that lives in me will live on, now andafterwards.----Full Bloom 18----Do we ever know what our life meansbefore it's over? I do. Not completely,but I see where I've been and whereI'm headed. There are others also--lightsin whatever darkness falls. I'm one, buteach light-carrier, or, say, catalyst, is a gift the universe gave to humankind to guide its feet, as much as any Starof Bethlehem. It's simple enough. Welisten. We see inside other hearts,notice gestures of welcome, eyes thatspeak of gratitude, recognize fear inthe body's stiffness, hear trust in thewhispered words "We won't go back."We witness enemies transformingthemselves into friends; a few simplewords of welcome become a magicwand. We are not alone though wemay be the only one within our fourwalls. We are so small, one amongso many. The grand power of the Universeaccompanies us wherever we go, or to whomever we speak. If this is true,you will recognize it and be changed.

Sunday, December 18, 2016

My grandmother Grace Roys, Nanking, 1911Full Bloom 21This book is my tribute to my grandparents, a gift my maturity and sanity can give. I'll find the answers, and then my feet will return me into the light, with Grace, redeemed, beside me.Full Bloom 10.I did what felt impossible. I agonized:so many computer tricks I could not do.Yet I had a publisher. I could not refuse. I must learn and seek help. I learned. Help came. Other women wanted to read this story of my grandmother Grace--gifted, lively, funny, and fragile. Even in doing this work of manuscript preparation, I proved I wastough. I worked through my panic, gavemyself courage. I learned beyond what Ihad believed myself able to learn. All thepieces are in place but one. I long toreceive it, but someone else must providefor this one piece, this last gift. Now cometwo warm days into our winter life, withmore Arctic blasts to follow. We livein perilous times; more storms, morepollution, more hatred, more powerplays. It's tempting to turn away, throw up our hands, say we're too busy, too old,too scared. That way lie nightmares.To turn those fearful ones around, wemust summon courage. It begins in terror,inches slowly forward. We do the easy things first; ask help; move through one morenightmare. People begin to follow, summontheir own strength and resilience, learn thatacting silences terror. There was once awoman who danced on the way to the gaschamber. We remember her. Here we may come to that last brave act. How many of us will dance? If we all dance, no onewill die. Dancing is more contagious thansubmission to what we know is wrong.Human beings know how to love. Isn't ittime we obeyed our inside law to loveour neighbors as ourselves?

Sunday, December 11, 2016

A wise man said that we are in the midstof a cultural revolution. Once only whitemen with property could vote. Then slaveswere freed, but there were poll taxes and manyways their votes were suppressed. Women wonthe vote nearly a hundred years ago, then thosewith darker skin, then eighteen-year-olds. Someold white men got scared When we with thevote put a black man in the White House, theygot angry, and set out to take rights awayfrom all of us. So now they mimic the Nazis,going after blacks, gays, women, even cleanair and water in a frenzy of freeing pollutersfrom restraint. It doesn't occur to them that they'll kill off their descendants. Meantime we are not idle. We who hold the majority ofthe votes now are re-grouping, re-assessing,teaching democracy. Remember our pledge?"With liberty and justice for all"? We renewour promises, take our stands, work quietly.We are a democracy, not a Fascist state. Weform a circle, holding hands, standing firm.We shall not be moved. Skin color shall notseparate us, nor sexual orientation. We know He or She has the whole world in Its hands.We may suffer, but so have those who camebefore us when they fought for freedom ofspeech, freedom from having our homesinvaded, our lives discounted. We were raisedto believe in our human rights to life, liberty,and the pursuit of happiness. Hold tight. Don't ever let go. We shall overcome.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Full Bloom 19 December 4, 2016Focus on keeping your petals open to passing butterflies and honeybees.Your immortality is already promised.--- Full Bloom 4The work on the new book about my Grandmother Gracehas been all-consuming these months. It set off panic towhich I'm rarely subject. When I called, help came.Now I see the end point coming. In ten days I can sendit to the publisher. Once more I stayed the course.Anne says courage means you were vulnerable. Ilearned to do what baffled me. Awake at 3 a.m.,I wrote to re-find my courage. I even pulled the staffof the big New York and London publishers intohelping me. As I struggled for footing in a strange formatting world, and then my computer died, angels began to appear. Three knocked at my door. Doug came to set up a temporary computer so my book work could continue. My student Shirley,gone a year for back surgery, stopped by, her hands full of egg boxes, soup, and honey. My neighbor Kevin, working with others next door to cut down trees and undergrowth, comes to show me how they cleared my land,too, and they want to do more, even cut firewood. Gratitude is inadequate to express what I feel.I've lived within a gift-giving universe a long time, but now I'm in an age of miracles.

About Me

I write mystery novels, poetry, autobiographical books, reviews and articles. My Hoganvillaea Farm provides about half my food. I sell eggs and figs. My newest book, Grace: A China Diary, 1910-16 came out April 12, 2017. The next Penny Weaver mystery comes out June 1,2017: Political Peaches. Formaldehyde, Rooster (2016, Nuclear Apples? The Third Penny Weaver Mystery, 2016. The Sands of Gower: The First Penny Weaver Mystery (2015), Haw (2016): The Second Penny Weaver Mystery. Killer Frost (2012) and Farm Fresh and Fatal (2013) will be re-published in 2017 This River: An Epic Love Poem came out from Wild Embers Press in 2014. You may order all the books from me, as well as my poetry chapbook Beaver Soul (Finishing Line Press, 2013) and This River:An Epic Love Poem (2014): PO Box 253, Moncure, NC 27559 mysteries cost $16, with postage, $19;Grace costs $28, $30 if mailed. Beaver Soul is $13; $16 if mailed. This River is $15 if picked up, $18 if mailed. My PMZ Poor Woman's Cookbook: Vegetarian Recipes for Survival and Health in the Menopausal and Post-Menopausal Years. $10; $13 if mailed. I hold the copyright to all the material on my blog, which I've written.